


James² Shorts

by floof



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, if you read my work you know thats just how i roll, it can be taken as gen to, sometimes there is some minor implied stevetony but eh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:05:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1434457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floof/pseuds/floof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few unconnected short writings about Bucky and Rhodey in love. It's list as WIP but each chapter is it's own story so you should be fine reading any of them, I just may add more as they come to me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sidekicks

**Author's Note:**

> Un-betaed. Unbetaed? Not beta'd. Betad? Crap. 
> 
> For the lovely Karen.

“I don't want to be a superhero....” Rhodey closed his eyes, and leaned back against the wall. He was hot and sweaty; having just left the War Machine armor behind. The avengers were inside, celebrating a battle well fought; or however Thor had described it.

Sometimes he envied them; though he'd never admit it. Years in the Air Force made him used to having someone at his back, but ever since he'd became a superhero, he was working alone more often then not. Now, when Tones called him for back up, it was just that.

Back up. He was an outsider looking in. Don't get him wrong, he loved that Tones had a family, he just wished that there was a place for him in it.

“You just want to keep him safe?” Brown eyes flew open, his head turning to the side. Huh. James Barnes; aka Winter Soldier, was leaning on the wall beside him. Weird that he hadn't heard him, but then again for all his training, Rhodey hadn't been an assassin for decades.

“Yeah. He's...He's my Tones. I love the little idiot, you know?” Rhodey heard a snort, and he leaned up, glancing over at Barnes. He didn't know him well enough for the other man to be Bucky, not yet.

“No, really, he's -”

“You don't have to explain it to me.” Barnes cut in, shaking his shaggy mane from side to side. “I get it. Stevie...Steve. Everyone knows him as Captain America, but part of me is always going to see him as this shrimp who needs my protection.”

Now didn't that sound familiar.

“Even though you tried to kill him last year?” Ouch. Maybe he could blame that bit of bad tact as Tony rubbing off on him. To his credit, Barnes didn't seem to care.

“I wasn't...myself back then.” Or at least, Barnes didn't seem to hate him for phrasing it that way. Hate himself now? Rhodey could see a little of that happening in front of him. 

Despite his misgivings about the Winter Soldier turning over a new leaf, he draped an arm over the other mans shoulder, and squeezed. They weren't good enough friends for more just yet. Huh, just yet made it seem like he wanted more.

Searching himself, Rhodey found that yes, he did.

“But you are now.” His eyes were kind as he looked at Barnes, and he smiled as the man's face started to light up. It was slow, bit by bit. But hey, Rhodey was nothing if not patient. One had to be when dealing with Tones. 

The smile turned real then, lighting up Barnes eyes. Ah hell. Rhodey had a thing for cocky brunettes with a broken side. He could feel himself falling ever so slightly as the man warmed to him.

What had he gotten himself into?


	2. Admiration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did warn you these were short

Gunmetal grey, almost black that fades into the night, making him one with the shadows. Of course, that same metallic sheen makes the War Machine stick out like a sore thumb in natural environments, but at least it isn't as flashy as that red and gold armor that Captain America's teammate wears.

No, there's this subtle beauty to the War Machine, this something, fuck, he doesn't know, he's not a poet and never will be; just this something something that draws his eye to it. When he isn't getting a lock on a target, shooting them from afar.

There's plenty of time to look at eye candy in between shots. Or there is when you're James “Bucky” Barnes. And well, if he looks a little too long, that's his business.


	3. Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt "Cuddling together on a cold winters night". Featuring memoryloss!Bucky. Not Beta'd.

His least favorite thing about winter isn't the cold, though everyone expects it to be. Steve watches him warily as the temperature starts to drop; making up excuses to visit the floor Stark had given to his best friend; Rhodes. Which is where he'd ended up, some how. He couldn't remember how, exactly.

His brain still feels soft at times; like a chew toy that's one good tug of war session from being tossed in the trash.

They know about the cyro-chambers; even though that little bit of information wasn't in the info bomb Widow let loose on the internet. He suspects it's because of Steve. He hasn't asked, because he doesn't want to fight with him, not when remembering who he is is so new.

Bucky wants to cherish that a little longer.

No, his least favorite thing about winter is looking out the window and seeing ice forming on the glass. He doesn't know why, but he's taken to sitting right next to them and watching as slowly, one after another, they form. He likes to stretch his fingers as they do.

It feels nice to be able to move, even when the glass says that he shouldn't. 

He doesn't remember how they found him, just that they did. There was fighting? A man with metal wings tried to take him down, he does remember the way he screamed “Ah hell not again!” as he'd torn off the wings.

Tossed him off a building. Bucky does feel sorry for that now, and the man; Sam? Tells him it's alright, but Bucky catches him sighing about the wings now and again. 

They had just been fixed, apparently. Bucky hears Steve talking to the owner of the tower; a guy named Stark, about fixing them or making a new pair. 

That's not important.

He sitting by the window now, face pressed into the cool, cool glass. The crystals are slow to form today, but they are. Now and again, he tests to see if he can move. 

After an hour of this, he hears a sigh, low and sad, but a warm weight drops beside him. Bucky turns, and he sees him. _Rhodey._

He remembers him; usually. The man is a constant; having sighed and offered up a bed on his floor when it became clear Bucky couldn't handle being alone. Not yet, anyway – he remembers Stark telling this to Steve, after he'd wandered off the second time.

Maybe it was more then that, but he can't remember. 

Bucky likes him. He's kind, and it's fun to see him put Stark in his place with a folding of the arms, or a roll of the eyes. Stark will deny that, Bucky knows. But it's true.

It reminds him of something he can't quite remember, of someone who was very short once, and wouldn't accept help unless he had no choice. Bucky wishes he could remember more. He thinks maybe that person is Steve, but Steve is tall and looks at him with sad eyes.

The weight beside him is nice, and soft as arms wrap around him.

“You're not back there, you know.” Bucky turns his head; blue eyes looking into brown. Rhodey is frowning, but he doesn't seem mad at him.

“I promise. You're not back there.” The arms squeeze tighter, and there's a kiss on his brow. It feels nice, and he wonders if he's forgetting something important. It feels like he is. 

They've done this before? He hopes they have. It's nice. Bucky likes it. The arms start to pull him back against a broad chest, and he hears soft humming as Rhodey rocks back and forth.

He hopes he remembers soon. This is nice...he likes it.


	4. Soldiers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt of; After-CATWS Bucky/Rhodey, anyway you wanna have it! (maybe how they happened???)

Rhodey liked being a soldier. Sure, it wasn't all fun and games. A large part of it was literal hell; he'd have nightmares the rest of his life. But there was just something about the life which suited him. He knew that no matter what happened, someone would have his back. 

He had a family; from all walks of life. He protected people. He defended peoples rights, even when those people screamed back at him that what he was doing was wrong. But he did it anyway, because Rhodey had never been able to turn his back on someone who needed his help.

Maybe that was why, when he saw the shaggy figure asleep on the park bench; he turned into a McDonald's and bought two meals. Maybe that was why he sat down next to the man. Maybe that was why, even though he'd been punched in the stomach by the guy, he'd offered him a bag.

Even as he mentally sighed, telling himself he just couldn't leave well enough alone, could he?, he stayed with the guy. Started to talk to him. Did he have a name? Weird that he would say no, but Rhodey didn't question it.

It probably wasn't the best idea to bring the guy home, but hell, he couldn't just leave him on the street.

It definitely wasn't a good idea to let him kiss him, or to kiss back. Falling into bed with a man who couldn't remember his past never ended well, or so Hollywood movies would have him believe.

Man, Fuck Hollywood. No name was an amazing kisser.

Two years later, he was still eating with the guy; who did in fact have a name. Bucky to his friends; James or Jamie to him. They were eating better fair then good old Mickey D's at least. Tony insisted on it; and hey, perks of having a rich friend.

Rhodey refused to feel guilty about that, by the way. Tony had destroyed five of his cars over the years, two houses, and three apartments. The least the little shit owed him was good food. The. Least.

As Jamie smiled at him from across the table, poking him with his fork, Rhodey couldn't bring himself to regret that act of kindness. It had brought him the love of his life, after all.

Oh it hadn't been easy, but he was a Rhodes. He was used to working hard. The rewards? Were more then worth it.


	5. Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little jealous/possessive Bucky thing for the lovely Star

Bucky sighed, and splayed out cat like on the rails of the stairway; eyes ever watchful on the scene unfolding downstairs.

Stark was over again, and while he liked the guy well enough – he didn’t like how close he was standing to his Jim. Like was the arm slung around his shoulders really necessary? Or the way he was installing “Jarvis’ to “Help” them.

Bucky could do anything an AI could – _and who the hell names their AI’s “Jarvis” that is the stupidest name_ – and do it better. But Jim had made a point about how he needed to know if he was needed for an Avengers mission.

Even if he could do more for the world lone gunning it like Bucky did; than as a hero on a spoiled rich kids team…….and he might have a problem with Stark. A tiny one. Maybe.

But as he rolled onto his back, hair getting into his eyes; and looked down at the two men arguing below, he couldn’t help but notice the way Stark was all up in **his** lover’s space, practically in his lap.

Taking a deep breath and counting to twenty; Bucky tried not to think about how badly he wanted to go down there and sit in **his** Jim’s lap, press their lips together; and force Stark from the room as he reached down to palm at Jim’s cock…and now he was annoyed and horny.

Wonderful combination.


	6. Dweeb love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Leyla, a High School Au with Rhodey being a complete dweeb.

“No, see, it’s not actually electric, it’s solar, and that’s the coolest thing, because -” Rhodey went on, even though he knew better. Knew that no one wanted to hear a nerd gush, let alone about solar energy. But it was solar freakin’ roadways, how cool was that?

After every other sentence, He got an ‘Mmm hmm’ or an ‘Uh huh’ from Bucky, which told him he really, really needed to stop. The guy was obviously bored. But it was so cool, and Rhodey was already imagining driving on the roadways in the future.

He switched the topic to planes, because of course he did, it was like his fall back geek topic. That or robots, and arg he could not wait until he finally grew into his body. Maybe his mouth would follow. Maybe he’d finally obtain that level of ‘cool’ that made not falling all over your crush possible.

The word ‘Twitterpated’ crossed his mind, and Rhodey groaned internally, wondering if he really was acting like a lovestruck bunny. Why did Bucky even sit next to him at lunch? He was one of the cool kids, surely he had something better to do.

“I wish I could have seen the Wright Brothers first flight…it just…sounds so awesome, realizing that for the first time, flight is achievable, it’s…not just a dream.” Rhodey looked skyward then, sighing wistfully.

The clouds passed by slow, morphing into numerous shapes. Someday, he was going to be up there. Maybe in space, if NASA would take him. Maybe he’d join the air force. One way or another, he was going up in the sky.

Sighing again, he rubbed a hand over his neck, and shyly looked over at Bucky.

“Hey uh…I’m really sorry…I go overboard talkin’ ‘bout this shit.” His eyes went wide as Bucky’s hand covered his own, the other teen almost smirking at him.

“I like it.” Bucky leaned closer, and – oh Rhodey must be dreaming, he was tempted to pinch himself to find out – but those lips on his his were very warm, very real. He thanked his dark skin for hiding his blush, though he wondered if Bucky didn’t know from the chuckle he gave him.

“It makes you happy. I…like seeing you happy.” And damn. There was the smile Rhodey’d fallen for. A little bit cocky, but pure. Like he was being allowed to see something only a precious few ever witnessed.

“…Hey, how about we talk some...biology now?” His face felt like it was on fire, but Bucky just laughed. Gave Rhodey a different grin; more cocksure this time. Maybe even a little mischievous.

“Oh, let’s.”


	7. Weary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All night diner AU for Leyla

Bells jingle as the door slides open, and Bucky knows without looking that his nightly visitor is back, sliding into the same booth he’s frequented for the past few days.

Just like clockwork, the man; tall, deep brown skin, hunched shoulders; takes the same booth he has since oh, last Friday. He always orders the same thing to; a stack of pancakes, bacon, some eggs. Takes his time to finish them; going through at least a pot of coffee while he eats.

Bucky never has the heart to charge him for the coffee. There’s just something in the guys eyes that looks so lost, hurt. Yeah, so he’s only made eye contact once in the week or so the strangers been coming in; but Bucky knows haunted when he sees it.

It sends him back. To a time he’d rather forget.

To being fresh out of the hospital; medically discharged. He’d saved people. He’d saved Steve. But that didn’t stop an arm that wasn’t there anymore from hurting. Didn’t stop the long nights when he couldn’t sleep; gunfire that existed only in his head keeping him awake. The screams of the dying echoing around him. They weren’t real either but that didn’t matter.

The way he couldn’t accept even Steve’s help.

So yeah, he can tell when he see’s another military man. Guy isn’t army, he knows that much. Air force maybe.

This night is different. No one should have to suffer alone. Enough is enough, and okay, it’s kind of dumb of him to care, but he goes back and tells Steve he’s taking his break now, gets a nod.

Slides into the booth across from the man, catches those haunted eyes again.

“Hey there. Names Bucky. What’s yours?”

The man looks up, eyes hooded; guarded. Takes a long sip on his coffee, then, slow as the break of day; a smile creeps up on his face. It’s then that Bucky knows he’s doomed, cause as the stranger’s lips turn up, so does the heat under Bucky’s skin.

“People call me Rh-….people called me Rhodey.” The smiles disappearing, and all Bucky wants to do is find some way to bring it back. “But I think I’m going by Jim now.” There was something in Jim’s voice which made Bucky not press, not pry. Some kind of loss that wasn’t his to know about.

Not yet at least.

“Well hey there, Jim. What brings you to my diner at 2 AM on a Sunday?” Bucky stops, stretches, and then stops again when he realizes the movement brings attention to his stump. Flushing, in anger this time, he scowls and mutters more to himself then to Jim; “I’d say a bar kicked you out but you don’t seem like the type.”

“Oh really?” Jim smirks again, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Bucky wishes it would, he’s got such pretty eyes. He wonders what they’d look like when they aren’t so sad.

“Well you’re not stumbling down everywhere, haven’t pissed on my floor – don’t laugh that has happened twice now, it’s not funny – and unless you’re a really, really well functioning alcoholic; you show none of the signs.” Bucky frowns then, leans back as far as he can into the booth. It’s not that comfortable, and he makes a mental note to discuss replacing the upholstery with Steve now that the diner’s bringing in more money.

“A drunk pissed on your floor?”

“Twice.”

“Huh.”

“So I notice you didn’t answer my question?” Bucky leans forward, scoots Jim’s plate along the table. He’s starting to wonder if this was a bad idea. It’s been years since he flirted with someone, and last time he did it was with girls, even though he’d known he was bi. Not to mention he didn’t have hippie hair back then and oh, he had two fucking arms.

Jim taking a deep breath brings Bucky back to the present, and he’s glad, because the past is a place he’s in often enough. He doesn’t need to wallow anymore. That was sort of the point of buying a diner with his pushy little brother; turning over a new leaf. Starting a new career.

“I don’t want to go home just yet.” There’s a sigh and then Jim’s head is in his hands. “A…friend of mine is in the hospital. It’s all my fault…”

…Well this isn’t how Bucky had meant for this to go. But then again, he hadn’t really had a plan beyond ‘Cute guy is in diner. Cute guy has noticed me checking him out. Cute guy still came back the next night. Must talk to cute guy.’

Struggling for something to say, he finally settles on; “Hey…I’m….sure it’s not as bad as all that.”

“I wasn’t there to protect him.”

There’s not much he can say to that, so he reaches over, and squeezes Jim’s hand. He gets a squeeze back.

They sit in silence for awhile, and Bucky notices Steve looking out from the kitchen, expression curious, but a scowl from Bucky gets him to go back inside. Even if it is after a clearly mouthed ‘Way to go Buck!’

The little brat.

“Hey um….look, I don’t know the situation. But trust me when I say I can relate. It sucks, failing people. …My diner’s here when you need it. All the pancakes you can eat and coffee you can drink.”

“Is your hand available to?” The tones teasing, Jim’s smiling at him, even if it still doesn’t reach his eyes. It stings for a moment, and Bucky looks to his left, to his missing - but Jim squeezes his hand again, and Bucky knows that wasn't what Jim meant.

“…Yeah.” So it isn’t perfect. It’s not the seduction of the century. But this is how he meets James Rhodes, the start of a friendship which eventually turns into a relationship.

It starts out painful, like a lot of things in Bucky’s life. He doesn’t exactly like it that way, but he doubts he’d know what to make of anything else.


	8. Sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Star wrote me a fic so here is a fic for her, a little stream of conscious type thing in first person about Rhodey being sick. Breaks the alternating pov of this collection but oh well.

Rhodey gets sick. 

I don't.

I hate that he gets sick, and really, what kind of person would I be if I enjoyed my loved one in pain? He says I'm not that kinda person, not anymore, and sometimes I believe him...

I _hate_ that he gets sick.

It's bad sometimes, sometimes when I forget where I am – when I am – and I look down, seeing him, sweaty and aching as he coughs; but I don't always see him, you know?

Sometimes I see a little blond kid, at deaths door a couple times a month and it's all I can do to keep him from knockin' on it too hard. But it's still my Rhodey, to, and fuck, I know medicines better now a days – I'm kinda livin' proof of that?

But hell if I don't worry.

'Cause, 'cause what if? What if this is one of those times – those times like back then, where just a little shivering in the night becomes a cough becomes a long stay in bed, and nothing, nothing I do helps with the agony? 

So I just...do my best. To take care of him, like he's taken care of me in the past. He laughs at me sometimes, calls me a mother hen. I don't really take it to heart. I just gotta – gotta make sure he's okay.

My memories all fuzzy, there's good days and bad. Days when I can actually live, not in a fog, not just existing, but actually living; less the programming, more me. I dunno if it's who I used to be, but, it's who I am now. 'Nd I like having Rhodey in it. 

Can't do that if he gets sick and dies. I can't lose him, yanno? I just can't.

So I. I bring him whatever he needs when he's sick. Even if it's one of his 'It's just a little cold Jamie, nothing to worry about' things, I still do it. Soup? I can make it, even if it's not the best. Cough medicine? Not sure I trust it but if it helps my Jim, then yeah, it's his.

I'm not the best at reading, but if he wants to hear a story while he's lying in bed, I'll try. I can read some, but usually...well, sometimes I'll look and the words won't be in English, they'll be Cyrillic, then back again, and I'll just stare at the page, wondering where I am, what mission this is; _what do they want from me this time?_

'Til my poor, sick, Rhodey touches my hand.

Grounding me, when I'm supposed to be taking care of him. Fuck I just – I love him so much, I can't lose him, I can't.

“Buck, Jamie, it's just a cold – I promise I'll be okay.” He says, looking at me with worry in his eyes, and I nod, but. But. 

All the same, I'm gonna sit beside him 'til he's better. If I have to count each breathe to make sure he's still breathin', I will.

I don't need much sleep anymore. Spent too much time all frozen, like death. It was enough of a rest. If I need to catch up, I'll do it on a day he's well. With my arms, one metal, one flesh, wrapped around him. So I can feel him breathin'.

In and out, out and in. Alive. Alive, still.


End file.
